


Lost and Found

by guidebetelgeuse, Suzthesnooze



Category: Beetlejuice (TV 1989), Beetlejuice - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Tension, Best Friends, Camping, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Roleplay Logs, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18698092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guidebetelgeuse/pseuds/guidebetelgeuse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzthesnooze/pseuds/Suzthesnooze
Summary: After a long Spring semester away at university, Lydia Deetz is happily reunited with her ghoulish best friend, Beetlejuice, for a camping trip in the Neitherworld. Hoping to reconnect after so much time away, their plans for a friendly "Best Scummer Ever" are foiled by fake maps, restless natives, sleeping bags, and a hilarious amount of sexual tension the likes of which could very well alter their friendship forever.





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a collaborative work between Guidebetelgeuse (http://www.guidebetelgeuse.tumblr.com ) as Lydia and myself ( http://www.suzthesnooze.tumblr.com) as Beetlejuice. For those unfamiliar, the roleplay format shifts perspective back and forth and may be a bit jarring at first. All the artwork was done by the two of us. I loved getting to help make this piece a reality and I hope you all enjoy ! Leave a comment, a kudos, yadda yadda. 
> 
> Thanks!

 

With a loud  _thwock_  and  _whuack,_  the silver edge of a large machete sliced and hacked its way through the thick and strange Neitherworldian underbrush. Otherwordly birds howled and called overhead, the tropical and florid surroundings clearly housing a large quantity of underworld fauna. Making her way into the low clearing ahead, Lydia Deetz pulled out a worn looking map from within her safari-themed jacket that had been manifested on her earlier. She pulled the map open, giving it a cursory once-over, dark brows knit in concentration.

 

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

 

“Well,” she said tiredly, looking briefly behind her for her constant ghostly companion, the brim of her safari hat tipped up slightly, “I think we’re thoroughly lost, Beej.”

 

She’d be more worried if they hadn’t gotten into messes like this on a fairly regular basis. At least there were no carnivorous plant-life in the immediate surroundings, but she could never tell what was going to be around the next corner. That was half the fun, though, wasn’t it? Still, he had promised to get her back for a gallery opening by week’s end at bare minimum. At this rate she wouldn’t make it, but a large part of her genuinely preferred this over the former.

 

Bewildered, she added, “We were supposed to reach the steps of Mush-you Pee-yew two hours ago, according to the map…”

* * *

 

Beetlejuice stumbled out of the thicket behind her, dusting the twigs and leaves from his filthy Grimdiana Bones outfit, the buttons of which were as comically near to popping as they had been years prior. Hey, who didn't love a themed camping trip? After one or two accidental declarations of his persona's name -- resulting in him being mashed by a boulder and getting the desired laugh out of Lydia -- Beej had been content to let his best friend play guide this time around. 

 

The duo had left Doomie at the Roadhouse for this one, for which Beetlejuice was thankful. Much as they liked having the little Dragster along, it had been far too long since the Deadly Voo Two had done anything in the Neitherworld. Lydia had spent Spring Semester hitting the books and he had managed to entertain himself, which had been HELLISH for everyone involved. The arrangement to leave her be for school hadn't been his choice, but he'd abided and moped around for months. Lydia DESERVED some fun, he thought.

 

 

And what was more fun than him?

 

"Well, what did you expect, Babes? It's Mush-you Pee-yew!" her ghostly companion snorted matter-of-factly. "You living folks go to Machu Picchu for findin' yerself, but folks here go to Mush-you Pee-yew to lose themselves! HA!"

 

Potentially a good thing to have mentioned before suggesting it as their summer camping trip destination.

 

Beetlejuice floated up to look over her shoulder, one eye extending like an eyeglass down to the aged map.

 

"Well here's your PROBLEM, Lara Croft."

 

A red-tipped hand flipped the map upside down in her hands. Strangely, the text spelled entirely different landmarks from this angle.

 

"Gee, Lyds, you sure all that college is doing you any good?" As though he hadn't been entirely aware of the upside down map from the beginning, but had LET her lead them astray. "I mean, ya can't even read a map right!" He teased, and it seemed perfectly light-hearted until "Must be a pretty shit school. If I were you, I'd just drop out!"

 

Sure it was a cheap shot and he knew she could smell the petty on him. He was still a tad bitter over the whole college arrangement, clearly.

* * *

 

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t missed their adventures together, but Lydia’s priorities were firmly school-based as they always had been…just much more intense in the world of college. While other students slacked, she was up late in the library. Her grades were extremely important, and even though half the time she over-worked and over-studied and over-thought for even the simplest assignments, it was fun for the little book-worm to do so. A challenge. But it meant she needed to concentrate, and for a full semester it meant she needed to put aside her favorite, most tempting distraction in the form of an older striped ghost. It wasn’t an easy conversation or request to ask of him, and while her schoolwork flourished, her social life left much to be desired. All of her real friends were over there… and late at night, alone and scribbling notes, she missed them all dearly.

 

There had been a longing, specifically, to see Beetlejuice again. He often appeared as doodles in her notes, and a part of her sincerely hoped he’d break his promise and appear in one of them and rescue her from the doldrums of tests and research and studying; but alas, he never did. Eventually, summer rolled around and she was free as a bird - the first thing to do, of course, was to reunite with her best friend and like slipping on a familiar well-loved shirt, their new misadventure began.

 

Beetlejuice’s sense of humor was truly one of a kind and nothing made her laugh quite like it. Growing up, he never lost his touch either – and now that she was past her childhood years by a yard and some it still never failed.

 

She amusedly shook her head, silky dark hair grown to her shoulders tidily sweeping back and forth. “Well, we’re definitely in the spirit of Mush-you Pee-yew then, aren’t we?” came the wry reply. As the ghost fully inspected the map and turned it around in her hands, the girl’s dark eyes went wide in surprise.

 

She was normally so good with maps! She must have not been paying attention to the landmarks as they started out. “Erm,” she replied, clearly embarrassed at his jab about her college experience, stammering, “Er…well, I thought it was, but now I’m not so sure!” It was an honest reply, and the girl was clearly surprised at her obvious error. As Beetlejuice’s remarks turn, however, her expression flatlines a little. “Beej… you know I can’t. Despite my erm…uh, this, I’m doing really well in school! And I like it. I’m learning so much.”

 

Lydia sighed and began rolling the map up. “But…” she finally seemed to admit with a sigh, “…it’s definitely not as fun or as interesting as all this.”

* * *

 

Usually, he'd be kicking in glee with deception like that. But Lydia's embarrassment and apprehension seemed to strike the ghoul as the thought occurred: he's just being mean, now. Normally, he'd ask why that was such a bad thing... he had always been mean. But something about those dark eyes growing gloomy under that fringe of velvet black hair (she'd grown it out, he noticed. Long hair suited her... not that he didn't like her SHORT hair too--) brought only discomfort. Lyds was the one person he didn't actively enjoy seeing upset... especially not because of him. Making her happy had been his quest since the moment they'd met.

 

While she was away, old habits of true nastiness had made themselves known in the wake of his poor handling of their separation.

 

If Lydia had spoken to any of the other inhabitants in or near the Roadhouse, they could have told her what a miserable shithead Beej had been in her absence. What had at first been a dramatic bout depression had quickly given way to behavior they hadn't seen from him in nearly a decade. Pranks cranked up to an 11, mockery had increased in frequency, public disturbances got him in more trouble than usual. Lydia was an incredibly touchy subject for the resident poltergeist and mentioning her, or how disappointed she'd be, only seemed to bring about his ire. For what reason, they couldn't have been sure. But a few had their theories.

 

He was an immature jerk, it was true, but if Lydia had positively influenced the ghost in any way, she had at the very least earned enough of his respect and affection to glean an apology. Beetlejuice dropped from to his feet, ran a hand up to scratch at the rough hair beneath his hat.

 

"Shit..." he breathed. It had been years since he had actively censored himself in front of her. Her maturity hadn't escaped his notice... "I was just yankin' yer chain is all, Babes. Don't sweat it. That map ain't even real, I just drew it up for a quick adventure with ya..." A nervous laugh accompanied, before the poltergeist tried to kick back up into his usual jovial temperament. A ball and chain held him down from floating back into the air. Shit.

 

" But Hey! See? Only an idiot would'a been able to follow a map THAT phony! So, it's gotta mean you're the brightest babe around, right?" nice recovery, Juice. "and y'know what? Those eggheads don't deserve you! You know me, I just uh..."

 

He'd told her only once before at his sappiest, right when she'd first gone off to university. He missed her terribly. And if she ever told ANYONE he'd said that, he'd supply her sock drawer with an endless amount of slime. "...I know ya gotta do yer school stuff. I get it."

  
He did. But it didn't stop the frantic gnawing in his still chest when he thought about summer ending.

 

Beetlejuice immediately perked at her admission. Fondly, the older man swept an arm around her shoulder to give the raven-headed young lady a firm squeeze. "We're gonna have a BLAST, you and me! I promised, right? Best Summer Ever!"

 

He kept his arm there, surprised at how nice it felt to be near her again, and started forward through the clearing. His crooked grin perked higher as he looked down over his best friend. Boy, she'd grown. He could remember having to stoop to hug her when she was a kid. Now, she fit neatly under his arm standing.

 

"I promise ya kid, nothing's gonna tack the 'mis' on THIS adventure!"

 

At that moment, a whistle cried through the air and Beetlejuice staggered, released Lydia's shoulders, as an arrow sunk into his chest with a thud. Wide eyes snapped from his impalement to the girl.

[ ](https://ibb.co/kgGC0jY)

 

  
_**He and his big mouth.** _

* * *

 

You take on certain risks when you befriend a poltergeist. When Lydia first met Beetlejuice he was rough around the edges, a real nasty piece of work to those that earned his ire. Even Lydia was not safe from his pranks, but a specific incident involving spaghetti and her father and the singular time she banished him had taught them both a very important lesson. She knew from that point onwards how much she meant to the ghoul, having been able to barely escape his troubled mind in peace and not…pieces. But the Prankenstein in him never left, it just… redirected with the help of a little Willpower.

 

Fortunately for him, Lydia had a streak of bad behavior in her too…as much as she tried to hide it. Most of his little tricks only gave her the shy giggles, unless she deemed it too mean or directed at her poor, unsuspecting parents. She had always hoped to be a good influence on Beetlejuice throughout the time they’d known each other, but more than that, she just hoped that no matter what she had always been a good friend to him too. They both needed one, and Beetlejuice had so much to like about him. It just happened that other people didn’t see it; but that was okay. They didn’t see much to like about her on her side of the mirror, either.

 

Indeed, Jacques and Ginger had practically cleaved onto Lydia the moment she stepped foot back in the Roadhouse. “Sacre Bleu!” the skeleton had bemoaned to her, “Ee’ iz an unholy terror mon ami!” Ginger had wailed into her shirt, bawling about something regarding him not liking her dancing or her, and hiding her shoes, and wishing she’d break all her legs….and worse. So much worse.

 

“Uhh,” Lydia had stammered, overwhelmed by the problems Beetlejuice had caused in her absence (she had been made aware of his…proclivities outside the roadhouse by a very upset Monster Across the Street, too), “I’ll… try and get him out of everyone’s hair---“ That, apparently, was not the right joke to make with Monster, she had slipped out of that conversation by the skin of her teeth.

 

Beetlejuice was always a handful…but if she were being honest with herself, she liked him that way. It made things interesting. Besides, with the plan she’d cooked up to get him away from civilization, she could selfishly enjoy his company alone. Not that the others weren’t great, but…she’d missed him. He was her world for so many, many years, it was hard to imagine her life without him.

 

“You made a fake map to a fake landmark?!” she cried, suddenly reassured in her abilities again. Of course he had. “Beetlejuice…do you even know where we are right now…?” Visually, he was earning that ball and chain, and her ire. Hands on her hips, he had earned a glare, on top of it. Hmph…of course, at his complimentary attitude, she sighed. Her anger with him was always entirely short lived. Genuinely, most of the time, she liked it when he messed with her. It didn’t really matter where they were, as long as they were together.

 

As his arm slung easily around her petite shoulders, and dissolved whatever irritation could have possibly been left. He was good at that, and some part of her fluttered. “No, it’s alright. I know…it hasn’t been easy.” He had been trying his best, hadn’t he? He’d fully left her alone, despite his terrorizing of everyone else. Beetlejuice’s enthusiasm was always catching, and it isn’t long before she smiled and said, “I’m really glad I finally get to spend the summer with you. Remember that one time we insisted on dragging my parents along? What a Scummer Vacation that was…!”

 

In her musing, she couldn’t help but lean just a little into the ghost affectionately as they started off together.

 

His statement made her laugh, and she started to say, “Not even a ‘mis’ chiefed map---?” but was swiftly interrupted by the sudden appearance of an arrow that had found its way with a thunk into Beetlejuice’s sternum.

 

Lydia shrieked in surprise, and then shrieked louder as arrows whizzed by her and the ghost all around them. “Uh, Beetlejuice, I think that map may have led us into hostile territory!”

 

Grabbing his hand, running seemed like a really, really good idea. Especially as arrows continued to hail out of nowhere and zing all around them, causing Lydia to dodge left and right to attempt avoidance. She wasn’t particularly worried about Beetlejuice’s mortality, exactly, but the arrow sticking out of his chest as they ran looked at minimum…uncomfortable. “We need to find a place to hide!”

* * *

  
Lydia's screaming sent a sickening jolt through him he couldn't quite find an excuse for. Her small hand grasped his and they both took off like a bolt. Arrows sang through the air as the pair broke into a dead run, jumping rocks and brush. Another arrow caught his shoulder, yet he barely reacted other than a short 'EEK' of surprise, still joined in their frantic, directionless dash. Lydia mentioned hiding and he could have swatted his own forehead. Gee... why hadn't HE thought of that?

 

One particularly large rock Caught Beetle's eye and, briefly taking control of direction, he tugged Lydia sharply with him and dropped them both into a crag of rock. Arrows breezed overhead and to their left and right, but for the moment it seemed their attackers couldn't figure an angle that would send a projectile into their little stone cover.

 

"Yeesh! That was close..." Beej breathed, kneeling down with Lydia to catch their breath. Or, well, HER breath. But it was entirely clear they weren't out of the woods yet. Rather, they weren't IN the woods yet. Said woods were still a fair distance on the other end of the clearing.

 

He absently gripped at one of the arrows stuck in him, annoyed by the disturbance of his aged innards, and yanked it free with a sickening gluch. He looked at the arrow tip, grimacing heavily. Boy, it was a good thing he was a wider sort of target than the petite woman, otherwise Lydia would have been pin-cushioned by one of these bad boys.

 

Speaking of.

 

"You okay, Babes?" Beetlejuice asked, sounding frantic enough for a voice inside him to mock, _you're a sappy dope._

 

He grasped her shoulders, giving her form a thrice-over to check for any protrusions.

 

"Those jerks didn't get'cha, did they? Not even a cut or a knick? It could get infected an'--" thoughts about all the horrible things that could happen to Lydia plagued his overactive imagination and spilled out, sending a wild sort of discomfort crawling up his throat as he rattled off and fussed.

 

Some Best Summer Ever that would be... getting killed on a one-off adventure to a land mark made up by her so-called compulsive liar best friend.

 

And it would have been all his fault. 

 

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

 

His hands roamed unintentionally, still patting her down for anything to justify his intense worrying, before landing on her hips.

 

Woa... since when exactly had Lydia -- short, stick-thin Lydia -- had hips like... that?

 

The sort of grabbable kind?

 

“I…uh,” BJ's throat closed and his mouth went cotton dry as he floundered for words. Realizing he'd stopped there far too long, Beetlejuice yanked his hands away and sunk away from her.

 

 _What the hell was THAT about?_ the two wondered to themselves.

 

"...Heh. I'll get us outta this mess kid, don't worry. Just gotta use the old noodle, right? We've gotten outta worse scrapes than this. Just gotta think! " And NOT about Lydia's recently discovered curves, he thought, still thinking about them. SH I T.

* * *

 

With a soft  _whumfh_  Lydia found herself pulled safely behind a large boulder, rescued yet again by Beetlejuice’s quick thinking. Out of breath, it took her a moment to recover, but running around the Neitherworld was not a foreign thing for her and it isn’t long before she slumps against the rock in relief as arrows continue to flank them both. They seemed safe-ish enough for now, right?

 

“Well hey, being a target for mysterious islanders definitely has its draw backs, but at least we won’t be missed?” Lydia attempts levity, breathlessly, watching her companion messily pull arrows out of him – grateful he couldn’t feel them, and grateful he had suffered the slings and arrows versus she. Lydia was soft and squishy and wasn’t too interested in changing her alive status this early. But, in all their years together, the ghoul had never let anything truly bad happen to her. She rarely came away with a scratch, and for that she had always been grateful to him. “I think we have to run for that cover,” she mentioned, thinking ahead, gesturing to the other side of the clearing with a rather bewildered tone.

 

She squeaked as Beetlejuice suddenly seemed invested in how whole she really was, receiving a thorough patting-down by the overprotective ghost. “I’m okay!” she laughed, “Really! I promise, my mortality has been threatened far worse than this before, remember?” what she doesn’t expect is the sudden, aggressive response to his meandering touch that her body has. Oh, she liked that. Peril temporarily shelved, she suddenly feels over-warm to the point that it probably shows on her cheeks. “I…uh,” she could trick him, it occurs to her suddenly, intrusively. She could tell him there might be places where she got nicked and that maybe he ought to check. Her rational brain attempts to push these thoughts out – he was her best friend … but it wasn’t like…she hadn’t…noticed some things.

 

The idea of attraction as it stood to everyone else was something of a foreign language to Lydia Deetz. Everyone was lovely, and charming, and great, really, it’s just…she’d always seemed to have eyes for one person alone. A friend. A best friend, who knew everything about her. Everything she liked and hated. How to make her laugh. Someone that trusted her to the point of codependence, nearly, who was always as eager to help her as she was to help him. As much as everyone else couldn’t rely on the ghoul, she could. He’d done so much for her over the years – Beetlejuice had an endless set of powers and trickery and what did he use them for? Entertaining her.

 

The emotional love had always been there, certainly, clearly. But the rest… she’d never admit how, in more recent years when these sorts of thoughts flourish, she really liked those swim-trunks Beetlejuice owned…or the way that his garments always seemed too snug over his soft gut. Charmingly ill-fitted and a bit slovenly, that was how she always found him and it delighted her. Or how his suit was such a familiar and comforting sight that warmed her to her toes and that she was fairly certain it had started to give her a pavlovian response to stripes. There were other things...stranger things that had started to infringe nearing the end of Spring. Unique and florid smells that were a specific sort of reminder, just close enough to Beetlejuice’s that she swore he had been lurking. She’s abruptly drawn out from her own reverie to find those red capped fingers idled on her hips. Was he asking her something? Oh no....

 

Beetlejuice recoiled, and Lydia seemed … reticent and relieved all at once. “I trust you, Beej,” came the nervous laugh from his companion, “We’ve been in deeper scrapes---but you’d better think fast, I think they’re figuring out how to get around our barricade!”

 

Indeed, they had. Arrows were starting to zing a little too close for comfort. “At least with these natives, your head’s still attached!”

* * *

 

Lydia's insistence of her well being calmed him, a bit, and the assurance of knowing that she was right: this was far from the nastiest business they'd ever been tied up in.

 

But the difference between then and now was: he had taken all of that time with her for granted, before.

 

Sure, not everything went according to plan. Hell almost everything DIDN'T go the way he planned. But they had always been together and only when she began spending less and less time in the Neitherworld for SATs, college tours, testing and dinners and portfolio work... Beetlejuice had come to realize just how little he had appreciated the time they'd had. And that it could very well END, which was a rather frightening concept for a being who had become entirely accustomed to n o t changing.

 

But things WERE changing, whether he liked it or not.

 

The past few months had been spent occupying himself with whatever no-goodery he could get up to only in an attempt to DISTRACT himself. Beetlejuice was no fool, all observable evidence to the contrary aside. Lydia had grown from a smart and talented kid into a brilliant, driven, and frankly good looking young lady. At first it had been purely objective... it wouldn't have surprised him to find out that she had dated anyone while she was away at school. The topic had never come up, even though it was a frequent thought of his. Surely, a gorgeous girl like her had gotten some attention. There must have been tons of guys who could die happy men to be with someone like Lydia.

 

But it had N E V E R occurred to him that one of those guys could very well be HIM.

 

Until, one day, the summer before she went off to college, they'd gone to one of their favorite Neitherworld beach spots. She'd worn a bikini that nearly started his heart beating again and a vicious cyclone of entirely new thoughts, feelings, fantasies hit him. Sweet Satan, the THINGS he never knew he wanted her to do to him. The things he wanted to do to HER--

 

A frantic dash into the absolutely toxic water had been his saving grace. For the rest of the day, he'd sheepishly avoided looking at her directly.

 

Ever since then, he'd stuffed all of Those Things deeper and deeper into his closet, shoving skeletons aside to make room. But they had only gotten so much worse while she was away. Almost unmanageable, in fact.

 

Some part of him had hoped doing something Just Like Old Times would help squash the intrusive feelings about his Best Friend.

 

But he was entirely too observant for his own good, a con-man at heart. People didn't Blush so much in the neitherworld, so he recognized it immediately when her high cheeks turned rosey at his unsolicited touches.

 

"Yeah!" he choked, brought back by the sound of arrows _plinking_ against the stone far closer than before. "Yeah you're right, you're right." he gulped, literally shaking the intrusive thoughts away from his head like a flea-ridden dog. "Not a good time to lose my head--!"

 

You'd think at some point he would learn.

 

His head was sent flying to the dirt where it rolled lazily until he was stopped by Lydia's knelt knee. The look on his face was grim, annoyed. But his eyebrows jumped up sharply and a tiny light bulb popped up above his head.

 

"Got it! Pick me up, Babes." he said, grinning as she did so.

 

"We'll send Brainless there up to play decoy, while you and I make a break for it."

 

His body seemed immediately upset by this plan, arms crossing over his chest while fingers drummed against his bicep.

 

"We'll catch up with you later, jeez! Like i'd ever lose you for good. You've got a few of my favorite parts!" The ghoul snorted, and his body shrugged. It was true.

 

"Whaadaya think, Babe? Ready for a sprint?"

 

* * *

 

While Beetlejuice seemed unnerved and concerned about their current arrangement, Lydia was relatively calm. Perhaps because she acknowledged that the semesters were only so long with breaks in between, and her rational, reasonable brain had negotiated this for herself. Four years, and then she could go back to the way things were. Sort of. Things were hazy after college, admittedly. Would she need to work? Could she support herself as a photographer, really? It all seemed so far away, though, and in the meantime Lydia just seemed to be trying to create balance for herself in a way that was reasonable. She had responsibilities.

 

Those were the main focus of her time. If Beetlejuice only knew how she’d been spending her days and nights, it would have been similar to the way she had always spent them. Alone. Brief and cordial types of friendships with those around her, but nothing beyond a surface level coffee date with a neighboring dorm-room friend or a study appointment with her study groups. Her social status never changed despite a change of venue. She preferred it that way. Lydia had never really … fit in with living people in so many, many different ways. With Beetlejuice and the Neitherworld as a part of her, a secret part, it would remain that way. Boys noticed her, of course, just like they had in the land of the dead – but she was an expert, verifiably skilled in letting them down easy. Her experience with Vince had given that gift to her early on, and then many others…some closer to her age, and some….not.

 

But these boys were lacking. None of them were funny enough. None of them were confident enough, or interesting enough, or clever enough or …mischievous enough. It wasn’t their fault. They had stiff competition in the way of a stiff - her tastes skewed strangely, and none of them would even begin to know how to seduce her. And what were her tastes, anyway? Lydia wasn’t entirely sure, but what she did know was this – none of them really had what she needed, and none of them got her even remotely excited in any way. Sometimes, daydreaming underneath a large oak tree on the quad, huddled up in a shadow with a sketch-book or picking through some mathematics, she wondered… was it just Beetlejuice? Had it always been? The answer she kept formulating was a rueful, nervous sort of yes. But how to even approach such a thing…?

 

And what did she want from him? That she hadn’t been able to decide, but there were those lonely, empty Spring nights in her dorm where she almost called him. Almost. There were the stressful times, too, where escape was the only thing on her mind…and she had stayed resolute, regretfully. There were weeks where she would falter, and thinking of Beetlejuice was the only thing that kept her going, knowing his support came in the form of keeping his promise. If he can do this for me, I can make it too…

 

But she missed him. Every single part of her wanted to be back with him, just like it always was. When he finally was able to come through her mirror once back at the house, she had practically flung herself into his arms and never wanted to let go.

 

“Oh Beej…” Lydia exclaimed as the ghost’s head came to rest against her. Who else would understand this? Someone’s head coming off regularly to normal people was a concept utterly foreign, but to her…it was natural, if untimely. She was quick to gather him up and follow his instructions – his body for a distraction as they ran for true cover. It was a brilliant scheme, and hurriedly and readily Lydia agreed. “I’m ready whenever you are!”

 

Beetlejuice’s body provided the perfect decoy, and the arrows were attracted immediately to it first, as Lydia carried Beetlejuice’s head to safety under her arm, running swiftly across the clearing to the dark brush on the other side. No arrows followed them there, apparently they were in safe territory across on the other side. Panting, Lydia re-adjusted her friend’s head to face her as she eyed their surroundings. “I think we’re out of the woods. Well, er, in the woods, still, well, I guess this is more of a jungle really-“

 

A rustle to their immediate left spooked Lydia suddenly, cutting her off, and Beetlejuice’s head was immediately clutched directly, and deeply, into the soft mounds of her cleavage. Fortunately, the rustle was just a humble snake, and Lydia huffed out a deep breath of relief…still clinging to the head she held pressed against her, unaware at the position she’d put him in. Half-laughing, she admitted, “Okay…maybe I was a little more rattled than I let on…”

* * *

 

Any celebration on his part of a plan well executed (for once) was halted as he was suddenly thrown into soft, warm darkness. Say, that felt pretty nice... Beetlejuice is perfectly still a moment, confused but content to bask, until Lydia sighed heavily and the ghoul's head became immediately aware of where he was. Yellow eyes opened wide and snapped upwards. His suspicions were confirmed by the angle at which he viewed Lydia's pale throat and angular jaw. Don't panic. Don't lose your head... Oh, right. Too late. Try as he might not to make a thing of it, Beetlejuice couldn't help himself. He was a hotblooded male -- sort of -- and how could he be expected not to appreciate a fine pair of tits when they were literally jammed in his face? Regardless of who they belonged to?

 

Ooh, but what a god damn miracle it was that these gorgeous heaven-sent gifts were part of his Lydia.

 

HIS BEST FRIEND. Lydia, his best friend. Get a grip, pal.

 

The thin material of her shirt and the comfortable bra underneath gave him a pretty good guestimation of their size. He'd seen 'em all in his day, but she was right up his alley. Perfect high-rounded handfuls cupped inside a thin, delicate bra (She didn't wear push-ups, because clearly she didn't NEED them). If he had hands, and by satan he wished he did right now, there wasn't a force alive or dead that would have stopped him from copping a feel. Pressed in close like this, his eyes barely peeking out from between her mounds, he could breath only the scent of her. He'd learned it without even knowing it, over the years, with or without the flowery stuff she sometimes doused herself in. There was none of that now, just Lydia, who still looked beautiful as ever slicked with sweat from their daring escape and red in the face.

 

Wherever his body was, Beetlejuice was certain he was having a pretty Hard Time right about now...

 

But he's sure she'll notice, and rather than making a big deal out of it, he merely cleared his throat and cast a sheepish look up at his friend.

 

"Wanna turn a guy around?" He asked, muffled. "Not that i'm complainin' but--" If he had hands they would have slapped over his mouth. He certainly HADN'T meant to voice his stream of conscious out loud. FUCK. "I MEAN, uh, 'cause--" He pleaded for an out, but wasn't able to come up with an innocent reason for enjoying being jammed against her chest. His eyes darting this way and that, PRAYING to whatever the fuck was out there to send--

 

Out of the jungle -- his grotesque guardian angel -- traipsed his aimless body, feeling it's way along trees until it tripped on a vine and landed at Lydia's feet. He looked like a pathetic pin-cushion, a comic amount of arrows protruding from everywhere.

 

"Took ya long enough!" Beetle's head grouched, and his body only flipped him off as it moved to stand.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/k6PQ9RD)

 

His form seemed to quaver like a staticy tv-picture, and all of the arrows protruding from him clattered to the ground at once, falling through the incorporeal ghoul. It pointed to Lydia, then gave a questioning two-thumbs up.

 

_You okay?_

 

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. "Yeah she's FINE, pal! Yeesh, this guy, so overbearing, right Babes?" His body wasn't amused, and cast the most baneful, expectant look it was capable of sans-face.

 

"Wanna give me head-- _ **MY HEAD.**_ Give. My head back to... uh... Me." Beetlejuice's head wheezed. _ **"HAHA.**_ We oughta find somewhere to stay, before dark. With water an' all that junk..."

 

* * *

 

There’s a beat of silence from the head in her arms which isn’t unusual exactly, but the missed opportunity to actively taunt her about being scared of a snake is. That’s when her attention drops down to Beetlejuice, who she has, without realizing it, pressed thoroughly against her breasts. Oh. OH.

 

_Wanna turn a guy around? Not that I’m complainin’ but…_

 

Mortified, Lydia does so with a stammered apology, the flush to her cheeks from running only heightening from the error. “Ah, oh, uhm….s-sorry Beej!” his out was sort of registered and she was generous enough to give it to him, but then what he actually said seems to settle into her mind.

 

[ ](https://imgbb.com/)

 

_Not that I’m complainin’…_

 

For as long as she’d known him, Lydia acknowledged from when she was much younger that Beetlejuice had a type. He had met the ghoul of his dreams once on a beach, the first time this whole head-style fiasco happened, in fact. Jealousy wasn’t even in the realm of Lydia’s reaction to such a thing at the time – of course, whatever made her friend happy, she would encourage him towards. It’s too bad the ghoul of his dreams turned out to be another headhunter, though. Perhaps it was because Lydia never considered herself in that fashion. Her body was awkward, her style was unusual, she was short and strange and nobody ever had shown a single iota of interest in her in that way.

 

So, when she began to develop more mature attributes, Lydia had always suspected that it wouldn’t change much. Her height was indeed boosted, but not as much as some of her classmates. She was always destined to be a touch shorter than most, it seemed. The women Beetlejuice admired, by contrast whenever she saw him living it up in any fashion throughout their adventures, were tall and curvy, beautiful, long legs and ample breasts that would make anyone blush to admire them.

 

But, she had noted, he was an admirer of women altogether. The reverse couldn’t be said for Lydia, of course. None of the male figures within her life, Vince, or Billy the Crud, or any of the others who attempted to force their affections her way were well received. Beetlejuice was swift and merciless to protect her from these, too, occasionally stepping in himself in her place to rebuff those that would try to romance her. But why? Could he tell how much she didn’t like it, or perhaps moreso that it was hardly appropriate for her age at the time? Or… perhaps it was something … else.

 

Was it her? Could she be so vain to think it…? But then, she always also knew that for all his attempts with women, the ghost was usually on the receiving end of a swift rejection himself. Lydia understood why, but for her, he had always made sense. She would have taken him to prom (except, well, maybe not after that overly enthused response he’d had…), and she did think he was beautiful (maybe she had just said it for the reaction it caused?...) but…it was true, she had to admit. Aesthetically, he was all she could ever want. She had just never been entirely certain if she could be so bold as to admit that sort of thing could ever be returned her way. She just wanted to see her friend happy – even if it was with other girls.

 

Pulled from her jumbled, embarrassed thoughts by the body that thuds in front of her comedically, she laughed in relief. “Oh!” she cried gratefully that for once they didn’t have to go looking for a lost piece of Beetlejuice, and seemed very happy to re-unite head to body…even though the head was often giving the other parts of him some sort of nasty business. “Aw, c’mon Beej, be nice,” she tried to temper him with a smile, passing his head over for his body to SCRUNCH back onto his shoulders, “You erm…saved us? Well, it…your body did.” His body was terribly nice in comparison. In fact, most of his individual parts were. Which was a whole ‘nother set of strangeness to her existence with Beetlejuice. How can you explain to anyone that when split apart, his skeleton, his feet, his hands, his body, his brain, were all individual personalities on their own? His Freudian slip does not go unnoticed, however, and the look she shoots him is vaguely questioning for it. What was that?

 

He was acting strangely, that was certain. “I dunno,” she said lightly in return to his overbearing comment, deciding to test the waters just enough in defense of his body’s service to them both. “I think I’ve been pretty intimately acquainted with most of you by now, I’ve even been inside your head... in fact, I distinctly remember running around the Neitherworld trying to collect your pieces after you came apart at the seams that one time… and I like all of you, inside and out.”

 

She passed by him then, pointedly starting to whack again at the underbrush with the machete. “If we keep pushing through we might find another clearing!” Why was everything under her skin so warm?

* * *

 

Beetlejuice had sneered ,mostly to himself, at the 'Nice' comment. Yeah right. Jamming and clicking his skull back into place on his top vertebrae, Beetlejuice locked eyes on Lydia as she started off ahead of him. He had hoped he was in the clear, that even if Lydia HAD noticed all of his strangeness, she was a kind enough person to let it slide. And this seemed the case, at least at first. Having been shocked into dumbfounded silence, the ghoul shook himself to and hurried to catch up. While following at her heel, occasionally helping to zap a vine or move a branch out of her path, the old wheels in his head started turning and Beetlejuice started drawing connections.

 

_... all of him. Inside and out._

 

It was true. Lydia was, for as platonic as their relationship had been up to now, the only person who had become (her word choice nearly caused him to choke) Intimately familiar with him in not even he knew how many years. Decades, maybe.

 

Swift, brutal denial and refusal was an apt way to describe Beetlejuice's experience with women. Both in life and death. That didn't mean there hadn't been dalliances... when he got a terrible Itch he needed scratching. There had been plenty of school nights -- when Lydia was far younger and had been regular in her sleep schedule -- when the ghoul would say goodbye to his friend and go stalking off to a cathouse for pre-paid entertainment or had managed to find a woman not entirely unwilling. He rarely took them to the roadhouse for fear that Lydia might summon in on an unfortunate sight. Mostly, those encounters had been to slake his appetite and keep the horndog satisfied enough.

 

But THAT wasn't the same thing as intimacy and he wasn't fool enough to equate what he and Lydia shared with what he and several undead ladies did. Lydia was his best friend. The occasional lay or object of his more wicked affections hadn't EVER been intimate with him. Beetlejuice and Lydia celebrated anniversaries, for crying out loud. He couldn't even remember the last girl's name.

 

Lydia had pick him up and put him back together over a thousand times. They'd sat close during movies. She'd used his gut or shoulder to lean on. He'd fussed over scrapes and sprains, carried her in his arms or on his back. Not to mention the countless times they'd hugged hello or goodbye, or the tears or the laughter--

 

The brilliant girl had played surrogate, of sorts, to the type of affection the miserable old ghoul had missed out on due to... well... the way he was. And that had been entirely enough for him, and always would be...

 

But that didn't stop the recent onslaughts of invasive what ifs from crawling around in his head when he stared at the ceiling at night.

 

What if that wasn't enough anymore? He couldn't take rejection, not from Lydia. What if the point of addressing the materializing elephant in the room was drawing nearer and nearer? What if, when they finally did, she looked at him differently? What if she looked at him the way countless other women looked at him? The way she had looked at Billy the Crud or Vince or any of the other creeps who had pawed at her over the years?

 

That's what he was, wasn't he? Just another creep, clawing at a girl that was EONS better than what he could offer--

 

He'd been too quiet for too long. Beeetlejuice realizes it when evening light makes any sort of trail hard to see. Fortunately, it isn't long before they come to a wide stream and decide to follow it up. Lydia had been right, there was a clearing. He could have rolled his eyes at how ridiculously picturesque it was, clear of rocks and complete with a short waterfall against a cliff with a blue pool at the bottom. But maybe the scenery could distract from the strangeness growing rapidly between them.

 

"Not too shabby." he gruffed , setting his pack down. "Want uh. Want to set camp or get firewood??? OR i can do it, y'know, magic an' all..." but the tasks could keep them occupied and he NEEDED the distraction.

* * *

 

The silence between them was peculiar. Maybe the waters didn’t run in that direction after all? But it was singularly odd – nothing Lydia had ever said had driven Beetlejuice to an almost immediate spate of silence. Unwilling to break the ghoul from whatever deep mode of thought he’d put himself within, Lydia busied herself figuring out the trail they were making instead, thrown off by Beetlejuice’s unwillingness to celebrate the escape from their short, if intense scrape. Usually he’d be gloating by now. She could hear water, and followed it. Surely, soon enough, once they followed the river up there was a very pretty, picturesque clearing. Lydia gripped the camera around her neck and took a photo, immensely relieved when her companion finally seemed to break his silence.

 

“I can pitch the tent!” she said, cheerily, before her happy expression faltered. Are you for real, girl?! You can do WHAT? “Ah…” she hesitated, “I mean…ahem…I’ll…put it up-”

 

Swiftly looking for a way to recover, she slung her pack off her own shoulders and turned away from her friend to rummage within for the parts of the tent she was carrying. Get it together Lydia! Digging for the tarp, she suddenly discovered something she’d packed earlier and had entirely forgotten about. Maybe this would help smooth over whatever she’d verbally triggered by accident.

 

“Oh BeeeEeEeej,” she called, voice lilting in a sing-song of smugness, tugging open her pack fully and pulling out a clear baggie of over-stuffed looking fat, large beetles. “Look what I brought for s’mores! I brought these just in case we did have to camp. Marshmallow-fed beetles!”

 

It goes without saying that Lydia brought these exclusively for Beetlejuice, because she also had regular s’more ingredients for herself. Suddenly, as if hit by some thought she had buried deep, deep in her subconscious, something occurred to her – as if puzzle pieces had suddenly clicked by a simple action of her own doing. She had brought these because she had been thinking of Beetlejuice, and she knew that they might wind up in such a predicament because these things seemed to happen. She had done this because it would be a cute surprise to spring on him. Cute. Sweet. Thoughtful. Because she loved him.

 

She had always loved him, sure, yes, that best friend sort of love in which you’d do anything for them, that platonic sort of desperate love nonetheless, where the other person completes you emotionally. Yes, okay, that she knew, and long ago accepted when she couldn’t imagine spending a single Summer without him. But suddenly, she realizes it’s so much more than just that. That this was something she wanted to do for as long as she could, and what they had been doing, repeatedly, wasn’t just hanging out.

 

They’d had anniversaries, they’d had picnics where all they did was talk to each other, movie nights full of snuggling. It was just…Beetlejuice. Always. They had sort of been courting… or at least, as close as to it as she could imagine. His age hadn’t even been a thought in her mind, he always just was. Burp and Pru never did the same things she and Beej did. None of her college friends took her on adventures that made her heart sing, that she preferred over just about anything else. She settled for her existence without him. Those dark, big eyes shifted to the ghost, mid-wriggle of the bag of beetles. How does she articulate this? Does she even need to articulate it?

 

Another thought slammed into her brain from somewhere. Cozying up in a tent with Beetlejuice sounds amazing. Lydia was perfectly fine without this thought before. But now, it swims in her brain like pleasant, gooey caramel. There goes that warmth again.

 

“Hey…uh…will you pass me the big poles in your bag?” …oh god… “I mean, the… frame…”

* * *

 

Was it more likely that he was the perverted old man catching signals that weren't there, hearing innuendo in the innocent or that Lydia was on some level picking up what he was accidentally dropping all over the place? Because he'd let the pitched tent thing slide, writing the comment off as just his mind going to where it USUALLY went...

 

But she looks ready to implode at her mention of the big poles in his bag. Now that one was just too easy and his filthy mouth let slip--

 

"Hey, not the first time I've heard that! But the last time was from a little lower, know what I mean?" Beetlejuice joked. Fuck it. Why the hell not own it? HE hadn't started it!

 

It wasn't like the often obscene ghoul hadn't made a filthy joke or two in her presence, right? Even if she hadn't gotten them always, or he'd intentionally blown them over her head as a kid, Beetlejuice didn't see a reason to censor himself. He was a man of COMEDY! In his experience, a well placed joke eased tension... Lydia was an ADULT, he reasoned. Just because he and his adult female best friend on a camping trip alone together shared a dirty joke didn't mean anything untoward. Not like he was flirting, right? Wasn't like it could lead to anything more, right? That wasn't how flirting worked!

 

... Oh fuck, WAS he flirting?

 

She held up the marshmallow fed delights and Beetlejuice plucked them from her grip, grinning from ear to ear.

 

"Aw, babes, Lyds, ya shouldn't have! You know they're my favorite." Of course she did. She was Lydia. She thought of everything and everyone, that's just how she was. Wonderful. Perfect. Drop-dead god damn gorgeous--

 

"You really oughta try one sometime, babes. Who doesn't love a thick cream filling--?"

 

...Well... At least they were in the same tipsy boat, it seemed. Which was equal parts terrifying and extremely gratifying. Jamming the snacks back into her hand, the ghoul backed away at considerable speed and started off on clumsy feet.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/xXYrsbb)

 

"GETTING WOOD--! Going. GOING to get.. .wood. Oh, fuck...." Beej declared, far too loudly for as close as they were, and spun on his heels to make a hasty retreat.

* * *

 

The giggles that resulted from Beetlejuice’s return raunchy jab were a flurry of nervous, perfectly embarrassed ones. Hiding her face in her arms, Lydia’s face felt like it was on fire. “I’ll…just…go pull them out myself—oh no—uh,” she stumbled into her forearms, before dropping them with an exasperated sigh at herself and trying to hide her furiously blushing cheeks from her friend. Okay. Well, they were doing this, were they? “I don’t think you’d appreciate holding up the middle of the tent all by yourself, Beej…”

 

If there was one thing Lydia was excellent at, it was rolling with a situation that had gotten thoroughly out of hand. In this case, it was heading there at breakneck speed from what she could wager, and the logical half of her brain was pleading with her to be reasonable, and sensible. And he was going to be. She was going to somehow carefully put the breaks on all this before she got herself all wound up over nothing.

 

Well, that’s what she told herself ‘till Beetlejuice landed another solid slam of innuendo that nearly made her hair straighten on all three points. Before she could even stop herself, in a voice that she’s not even certain is hers at all even though it absolutely is, she returns fire. “I dunno, that sounds like it could get awfully messy, but I guess that’s half the fun.”

 

It was then that Beetlejuice suddenly discovered what he needed to be doing, finding firewood, but unable to articulate it … without yet another perverse sort of intonation. Lydia stared after him as he scuttled away, moving so quickly she thought she might have set fire to his suit. It was probably for the best. Lydia let go a long, drawn out sigh and looked down at her knees. This would be a lot easier if the butterflies and worms suddenly duking it out in her stomach would knock it off.

 

Well. It was time to pitch a tent. At least before it got dark.

 

* * *

 

 

After his mad dash far enough (he assumed) from camp for a little privacy, BJ'd gotten to work on wood of a few kinds. Practically clawing his pants down, he'd pumped into his spit-slicked fist in frantic search of some relief.

 

Lydia's voice played back in his ear, as it had nearly every night since she'd gone off for the semester. With all this new material, the filthy things she'd said at camp, he imagined her saying them under different circumstances. Imagined her reddened face and sweat slicked cleavage and swan's throat from earlier in the day, but instead she was pinned beneath him, writhing, calling out his name and begging for his touch.

 

"Uhhgod, Lyds..." he snarled, finally bringing himself to a frantic release into his own hand. Leaning his head against a tree, the ghoulish man's grunts and huffs subsided and something like sanity was returned to him.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/9hnXWCH)

 

The haze of lust lifted for now, he felt a prickle of shame up his neck. "Uuurgh... fuck. God damn it." Get yourself together, ya god damn disaster. This is supposed to be Fun. Don't go ruining it with your stupid no good feelings...

 

After he'd straightened up as much as was typical for him, ended the little self deprecating pep-talk, the deadman gathered firewood and started back just as the foliage became too dark to navigate. Beetlejuice returned with an arm full of fuel for a fire, shoulders relaxed and looking far more like himself, cocky swagger returned to his gait. He didn't see Lydia, at first, and went about setting up wood in a haphazard pile. Clicking his fingers down near the kindling, he managed to spark a small fire to life and illuminate their camp.

 

Was he a woodsman or what? A real man's man, if he did say so himself. Warming his eternally cold hands, Beetlejuice glanced about for any sign of Lydia. "Babes, we still doin' smores?"

* * *

 

Once she had gotten the tent set up, Lydia had unfurled the sleeping bags only to discover one had been ravaged by moths between this summer and last. With a weary sort of moan, she rolled it back up and slid into the intact one as she waited for Beetlejuice to return. Maybe she could just hide in here forever, and never have to face the really naughty things she had said to him. They were just messing around, right? Maybe that last joke hadn’t been funny enough and Beej took off? It was no use overthinking it. It didn’t help that the sleeping bag soon became overly warm for her from her fidgeting. Intrusively, a thought pushed into her brain. With only one sleeping bag, unless Beetlejuice used his magic, they were going to get really close that evening. A sudden rush of dark, thrumming heat pooled low in Lydia’s belly and down her thighs. Oh. That was a curious development. Intrigued, she explored the thought further. If he was spooned around her.

 

Yes, that yielded more of that reaction. If he was spooning her and his hand slowly drew up her thigh to rub against--- AH. Ah….that was enough of that, Lydia Deetz. Buried in the confines of the bag, Lydia’s eyes widened in sudden, complete realization.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/CQBLDFX)

 

Every iota of her body wanted him and had been waiting for this door to open. Why, why had she never thought this way before? How oblivious was she…?

 

“Oh no…” she moaned, softly, miserably. This wasn’t … expected. Trickles of information began seeping through her mind, like what his gut would feel like pressed sweatily to her back as he groaned dark, desirous things into her neck. She needed to stop, this needed to stop. It would not stop. Further adding to her ultimate embarrassment at herself she soon realized she had been rubbing her thighs together all this time, and her panties were thoroughly wet. “Oh Lydia,” she chided, bewildered, more than a bit overwhelmed. “You’ve really stepped in it this time…” 

 

Thoughts of rejection had already occurred to her, but most of her brain wasn’t paying attention anymore. It was time to change anyway into sleeping clothes she’d packed just in case and she determined to focus on that. When she was younger she wore a long, drab grey nightgown and soft leggings. For a while now, that had changed. She’d found that as she grew older she preferred sleeping in a little less, and she had found a pair of striped shorts that reminded her distinctly of Beetlejuice. They had thinner pin-stripes of black and white, but stripes nonetheless.

 

A soft, loose solid black tank top with thin spaghetti style straps completed the ensemble. If Lydia understood just how revealing the outift was in comparison to any of the ones years prior, minus her bikini, she didn't seem to register it. She had gotten dressed just in time, too – Beetlejuice’s sudden query from outside the tent startled her. Eager to remedy whatever temporary insanity had plagued her, Lydia scrambled to her knees and crawled out from within the tent to greet her friend, s’mores supplies under her arm. “Y-yeah!” she said, the more bare parts of her arms and legs pleasantly greeted by the warmth of the fire. Barefoot, she carefully meandered to where Beetlejuice sat and proffered the baggie of beetles once more, hoping against all hope that he couldn’t smell the dusky heat that lingered, that she is fairly certain she could smell from her earlier mental meanderings.

 

She was going to say something nice, and simple, and funny. And harmless. Instead, what she decided on was, “There’s nothing like a gooey, stuffed treat after a long hike and running from the locals, huh?”

 

Oh. God. Lydia. Goddamn. Deetz.

* * *

 

Beetlejuice had popped himself out of the Grimdiana Bones get up and into an ungodly old burgundy union suit better suited to lounging around camp. Lydia called out from the tent and he couldn't help a fond grin. Maybe things weren't as catastrophic as he'd feared. Things seemed okay, now that they'd both taken a bit of time away from whatever the hell was going on earlier. Perhaps their relationship hadn't reached a dangerous precipice just yet and they could just spend an evening, as they had so many times before, cracking up and chatting as freely as they always had. SURE they'd have to figure it out eventually, but tonight could just be--

 

Any tension he'd managed to rub out during his little shame-fest in the woods returned in one grand slam the moment he caught sight of her, clothed in near to nothing but a thin tanktop and striped little shorts, her pale skin drenched in the fire's light.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/C1JPXwx)

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/02NJ3nm)

 

Openly gawking -- god, just how long had she been wearing this little get-up to bed? HIS stripes? -- and tucking his knees up at an angle to easier conceal the sudden urgency against one thigh, Beetlejuice steeled himself for what was certain to be a more pressing confrontation than earlier. And he was ready to dance around the subject, stubborn coward that he was, just as they had before. It was FINE. He could be cool, he could play this game for decades or centuries of eons, until she was ready to finally --

 

Until, of course, she starts at it again.

 

Oh. He thought, that just about tears it.

 

Innocent or no, her little comment sent a bolt of hot dark need down to his core and the chuckle he let escape was throaty and dangerous. Lydia wants to play, huh? Be that the case or no, the game was on. Beetlejuice grinned darkly at her and took the offered bag of beetles rather too gently for him, speaking in as light an air as he could manage,

 

"Couldn't agree more, Lyds. 'Course, sorta depends on who's getting stuffed and who's doing the stuffing. Don't it?"

 

Beetlejuice was a deadman at the end of his miserable rope. A cornered mongrel too proud to run and too cowardly to act. All thoughts of putting off the inevitable were torn away as his willpower stepped aside completely, and he resolved to tease her until she could take no more. Until she went all red in the face like she had earlier. Maybe his intuition was failing, maybe she wasn't flirting at all... but fuck it. He was a bettin' man and so far, the ghoulish con-man really liked his odds of being correct. Wherever this went? He was ready for it.

 

Groaning far too lewdly for the motion, the stout man leaned far back, propping himself up on his elbows to tug open the bag of beetles. He manifested a stick into his hand, snatched a bug up as it tried to scurry off, and shot her another positively vile grin.

 

"You r e a l l y oughta try a Beetle, babes. Since ya seem to be such a fan of hot, gooey centers. They're really pretty filling."

 

And if that wasn't laying it on thick enough, the devil slowly skewered the bug on the end of his stick.

 

"An' y'see? They only squirm a little bit... they slide right on if ya stick 'em just right..."

* * *

 

Oh, those yellow eyes of Beetlejuice’s were big, and they were fixed on her…uh, well, on her. Maybe all of her? She audibly swallowed. He looked adorable in that itchy looking union suit and deviant all at once. Lydia had seen that look before – that slack-jawed expression when the ghoul was sizing something up, something he wanted. Uh, maybe it was the beetles! Maybe he was…just…really hungry…

 

As that dark, throaty chuckle escaped him, though, there was no denying the territory she’d put herself in. She could have packed any sleeping clothes for this trip. Her long jammy pants and a comfy t-shirt. But she had picked these because… because she thought he might like them. Lydia, of course, didn’t realize how much he would, exactly. But now, now there was a visceral reaction to his overt enjoyment of how she looked. That heat flares right back to life, especially as he plucks the bag from her fingers so deftly, making her twist her fingers into her tank-top helplessly once they had been freed up. And then what he says…

 

The lidded look he shoots her as he says it makes her stomach twist hard. She was entirely out of her league. Beetlejuice…probably had…experience. Knew what he…wanted. But her? Lydia? She couldn’t think of a rapid enough response and her mouth felt very, very dry. A nervous laugh escapes her as the best she can muster, but then … he goes and groans as she stretches. Not playing fair at all, maybe she was reading into it, but whatever that noise was it makes her sink slowly down next to him, her knees tucked tightly together. She wanted to make him make more of those noises very suddenly, and without realizing it she bites her lower lip and tries her hardest not to whimper in reply. And then she catches sight of what he’d revealed as he stretches out …

 

Oh.

 

OH.

 

“…since ya seem to be a fan of hot gooey centers…”

 

He had not stopped or interrupted his line of sight on her. In fact, Lydia isn’t certain he’s even really blinked – and that snaggle-toothed grin was getting wider all the time. There was no avoiding it. He…was…very interested…

 

Trying her best not to stare although she desperately wanted to, Lydia’s breath caught in her throat. The sudden flood of desire that hits her is unapologetic, embarrassing. Her petite chest rises and falls more rapidly, and her delicate mouth parts gently. “I might n-need…” she starts, hesitating, one of her graceful little hands fisted tightly in her tanktop as she requests sweetly,

 

“…uhm, another demonstration, Beej. You make it look…uh, so easy…”

 

Taking a long, somewhat shaky breath, Lydia closes her eyes briefly – this was it. She was going to return this flirting in a way that couldn't be mistaken. Carefully, her hand raised to the shoulder of her tank top and she slowly slid down one of the straps until it revealed a good portion of one of her breasts, and when her dark eyes opened again they were lidded and lingered on Beetlejuice. As it turns out, it would seem, this is what they had been building to after all. And, despite her nervous countenance, it felt…bizarrely natural. “You know I’m…more of a …hands on sort of learner…”

* * *

 

Oooh, she squirmed so pretty for him, it was impossible for the incorrigible creature not to grin like a cheshire. Her nervous laughing lifted his carnal gaze up to rest on her lovely face, flushed. There wasn't much to question anymore; poor sweet Lydia was all hot and bothered for him. The scent of her arousal reached him as she slid those creamy thigh against one another. She asks to be taught, tugged the strap of her shirt down just short of exposing the top of one perky breast, and a confident huff of laughter escaped him.

 

"That's how it is, huh beautiful?" he traded her nickname for something else, wanting his intentions made perfectly clear. She drove him to bravery, as she always had. "You want a hands on experience?"

 

In one quick movement, beetles abandoned and spared his wicked appetite in lieu of someone else, her ghost raised up with a grunt, crawled up and over her laying form until he loomed on all fours above her. One of his red tipped hands toyed at the top of her tank top, pulling it slowly down to fully reveal her pale breast in full.

 

The ghoulish man shuddered heavily, unconsciously leaning down further until his gut pressed against her toned belly. The thick bulge in his union suit nudged up between her thighs. Quick, as though terrified she may vanish or scurry away, a red-tipped hand clutched her pretty mound just firm enough to appreciate how soft she felt. Warm against his rough palms.

 

Beetlejuice rumbled from his chest, trapping her rosey little nipple between his middle and ring fingers experimentally. His lidded gaze drifted from her chest to her face. His beautiful Lydia. By satan, he wanted to taste her, hold her, make that angelic body of her's feel things no mortal man could EVER--

 

"Lucky for you, then. I'm uh... something of an expert in--..." he gruffed, the joking tone suddenly abandoned as it seemed to become too much for the ghoul to keep up. "Fuck, Lyds...baby..." his voice dropped into a serious husk, "Look, this goes as far as you want. I'm not gonna--... I mean... I know, i ain't exactly much t'look at." he suddenly became quite aware of his gut, his wirey blonde hair, cool skin only inches away from her's, "and you can have Anybody. 'Cause you're god damn knock out gorgeous, an' kind and good. Too good fer some old dead guy."

 

He's far from the sentimental type... but the thought of driving her away pulled this sincerity out of his black heart. His golden gaze squeezed shut, gritting out the last bit as though the very words stung.

"If this ain't what you want, if I'M not, then we... we can just go back to us. Right? I'm not tryin' ta fuck it up..." Just maybe her. But he doesn't voice that joke, too petrified he'll bring everything crashing down.

* * *

 

Beautiful? Her? Lydia? Plain little Lydia who only attracted the wrong kind of attraction from those who she had no interest in…? Beetlejuice really thought she was...Lydia wasn’t the giggling school-girl type at all, but her heart nearly seized in her chest. That was probably one of the sweetest things he’d called her and the flush already written on her cheeks deepened.

 

She wanted a hands on experience, all right - that’s approximately what she would have replied with if she wasn’t so preoccupied. Beetlejuice had gone from mild mannered if weird buddy to that hungry predatory weasel she knew he always had lurking under the surface. Usually it escaped in the form of a really tremendous prank or when he triumphed in a situation particularly wickedly. She couldn’t help but always be pleased when this version of him showed up when needed – this time, though, his appearance went straight to the already flustered regions between Lydia’s squirming thighs.

 

She eased back as Beetlejuice crawled to her like some sort of predatory, hungry animal, her heart furiously beating within her chest like a trapped bird as the ghoul loomed atop her. His gut felt good against her, trapping her there, his weight suddenly so real. Her breath hastened, letting go a light, helpless gasp as those pale fingers pulled down her top to reveal the soft, youthful flesh of her breast, her small, flushed pink nipple already tightened up into a sensitive, stiff nub. Yes…she wanted him to touch her like this. To desire her. Perhaps to encourage it, her legs drew up somewhat and tucked against his wide hips in an offering.

 

Lydia’s chest ached. All of her ached as it hadn’t ever before. She was rewarded when Beetlejuice’s hand caressed her, ruddy fingertips trapping her nipple between them. That elicits a breathless sort of eager noise from the girl, her hips pushing upwards in a sudden response, the heat between her thighs covered only by those small shorts made of thin fabric meeting the stiff ridge of Beetlejuice’s trapped arousal within his union suit. Oh, that felt so good...

 

Her friend faltered, then, as if trying to ensure whatever this was wouldn't...do what they both feared it would. “Shhh…” she purred in response to the jumbled rush of his concern. Her hands suddenly found their way into his thicket of tangled, wiry blond hair, pushing deep into his locks and gripping there lightly. She uses it as leverage to pull herself up, pressing her warm plush, petite lips to his cooler ones. The kiss is earnest, honest, and her fingers gently play with the pointed tip of one of his hidden ears affectionately. Her tongue slides against the bumpy texture of his greasy and uneven green teeth, his taste hardly objectionable to her despite it probably not being exactly enjoyable to most others who might have done the same. She pulls back just enough to hush against his mouth, “I want this as much as you do. I want you, Beetlejuice…” she drops his full name, then, and adds a quiet plea to her best friend, “…please…?”

 

How could anyone else compare...? If only he knew...

 

She then adds, awkwardly, with a half-laugh that tries to provide some levity, “Uhm, I haven’t ever… I’m not experienced…but I think you know…I’m a… fast learner…”

* * *

 

Lydia soothed and tamed, as she always had been able to do, the savage thing that bubbled up in him. It could manifest as fear, lust, hatred, love; and she knew how to handle him each and every time. Her petite hands slid up his scalp, dragging through his unruly locks and forcing his eyes to shut. The groan she elicited from him caught deep in his throat when she dragged herself up to press her sweet lips to his wicked mouth. She kissed him, and not just the peck of a shy girl, either. Lydia plied and pleaded with her tongue until he found the presence of mind to accept. Inhaling sharply as clever hands toyed at his pointed ears, Beetlejuice cupped a large hand to the base of her neck to glide red finger tips up into the fine silky locks there. Vile tongue snaked against her own, intoxicated by her sweetness and demanding more and more--

 

Lydia pulled back, suddenly, and her ghostly lover could have snarled at their parting. But those plush lips lingered near his own and whispered words he'd only ever dreamt of hearing. "Want you too, babes..." he puffed, wetting his lips at the entirely honest admission. He didn't DO that, often. Not for anyone but her. It suddenly became all too obvious. This was always how it was meant to be.

 

He'd gone to reclaim her mouth, but was halted again by her admission that this was her first time. HE was her first... and it stroked the prideful thing that purred in his chest.

 

"Oh don't I know it, Lyds. Hell, feel what you're already doin' to me?"

 

A languid roll of his hips pressed the ridge of his cock against the glowing warmth of her sex and sent him twitching against her. There was little he couldn't feel with their union separated by two layers of flimsy cloth and with only a bit of rubbing he could feel their little dry-hump growing slowly wetter. But there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he wanted to treat his nervous lover right. Ladies first, after all. He was SUCH a gentleman.

 

"Experience ain't got nothin' to do with it, gorgeous. I promise ya that. You know what feels good, don'tcha? I know folks who've been around for CENTURIES and can't even answer that..." Beetlejuice lifted his hips up from her, replacing the touch of his arousal with a firm hand cupping the moist outside of her shorts. "So in my EXPERT opinion, you're already waaay ahead of yer class."

 

The poltergeist gave a crude chuckle and slipped his hand down to the brim of those soft striped pants. “so how about you teach me, huh?” he growled, deft fingers quickly finding their way beneath her waistband. "Tell old Beej what gets that motor going, baby."

 

Thick, sure digits pressed just lightly against her thoroughly slicked mound. Fuck, he wanted to get lost in her heat. Thoroughly blow himself to pieces on her taste and smell and feel of her perfect little cunt around his cock. He waited for confirmation, some sign that she wasn't going to squirm away from his emboldened touches, before he dared to dip a finger just far enough into her to easily suss out her little clit.

 

"You ever think about me when you touched yerself?" Beetle growled into her ear, his fingers gliding delicately against her folds to spread her with his index and ring fingers. Padding his middle finger against her sensitive little bud, he continued casually, "...I've thought about you."

* * *

 

The high, vocal moan that Beetlejuice garners by rolling his hips like that after expressing his desire for her is almost like a tremulous song. It made Lydia arch underneath him, the delicate hands in his hair tightening. Oh that felt so good - it made the muscles in her stomach clench as a wave of want hits her anew. The state of undoing she found herself in from it was surprising even to the girl, her thighs quivering around Beetlejuice’s hips, and she offers the ghoul a panting half-laugh to his query – mind too addled at first to answer.

 

Shyly though, she smiled at his re-assurance. Beetlejuice was, on the whole, always confident in areas she was not. Occasionally too confident, but who could blame him? She knew his ego was usually covering for something but she liked him like that; both the real him and the one that blustered and lied and spun yarns deeper than the Sargasso Sea. He was always a creative thinker, and Lydia’s imaginings of how creative he could get was suddenly forefront in her mind, especially as his hand cups the front of her very damp shorts. She made a noise that was almost impatient since the prodding promise of his arousal had been replaced. How creative they could BOTH get… “You know how I love being teacher’s pet…” she joked in exchange to his assessment, distractedly, gasping suddenly as his fingers slid past the band of her shorts. “…ah- and heavy petting ah, Beej…”

 

Beetlejuice’s line of questioning made her thoroughly distracted mind whirl for quick answers. Her hips were busy encouraging him, thighs blossoming open, squirming all the more to get as much of his touch against her as she could as those long, curious fingers found the slick mons of her petite sex. His growling, gritted voice sent waves of warmth down her spine - she’d always loved the sound of his voice but it’s now found a new home in the arousal centers of her brain.

 

“Please,” was all she could think to say at first, a shy pleading with him, “This…ah, you…” tremulously, hesitant. How could she tell him the dark wanton things she wanted? How she wanted him to take her? She added, “Mn, b-back in the tent,” she finally gasped, “I didn’t touch, but I wanted to…I could…almost feel your breath on the back of my neck, your voice just … just like this, as you pinned me…” Lydia’s voice was quiet, low, her fingers playing at the front of Beetlejuice’s scratchy union suit nervously. “And I’ve…had dreams of you, watching me through the mirror, watching me touch myself, I’d wake up…wet.”

 

The keening moan that was wrenched from her as his finger pushed into her folds to find that sensitive little nub of hers is much louder, lingering on as those thick fingers spread her for him. She wanted to hear him tell her things, unbidden desires that gravelly timbre filling her ear and eliciting a pleading noise from her throat. “Tell me Beej…” she breathed out, pushing her cheek against his plump cooler one gently, “…how long have you…thought about us?”

* * *

 

He was terribly pleased to discover how receptive his Lydia was turning out to be. It didn't surprise him, really. They were the perfect team. Why wouldn't they make perfect lovers for one another, too?Those pale creamy thighs spread out so beautifully without provocation on his part. He tucked his wrist further within her shorts for a better angle from which he could work her clit, dipping occasionally to her virginal opening to gather some of her nectar on his clever fingers.

 

At first, her responses were bashful, incoherent, and he'd teased her with a rasping "don't be shy, babes..." until Lydia found the words and told him. Turns out, he hadn't been the only one trying to blow off steam earlier. Beetlejuice shuddered as her hand gently toyed at the front of his union suit. God DAMN it was getting unbearably tight, his thick cock too rigid to stick down a leg anymore and now openly tenting towards Lydia's barely concealed cunt, bobbing with each frantic, needy pulse down it's length. His unoccupied hand gently took her's and lifted it to the top buttons near his chest as she recounted what she'd wished he had been doing to her, in the tent. How she had wanted him, heavy against her back, pulling one of those delicious thighs apart so he could slip so effortlessly into that blistering heat of her's from behind--

 

The large man gave an animalistic grunt, momentarily tearing his hands away to instead grab her little form up against his body so he could snatch those soaked bottoms down by the crotch. It didn't take him even a second more to rip the flimsy black tanktop over her head. He pulled back like a serpent to look her over.

 

Whoever built her broke the god damn mold. Hell, they burnt down the factory. Because he'd never seen one like his Babes, before. She's short waisted, but the gentle curves of her hips and thighs, her round ass, give her petite form a distinct pear shape. Those perky breasts of her's look good enough to eat, the firelight darkening her nipples to a lovely rose hue. Long legs spread out for him, beckoning. She had him thoroughly stoked, every part of him demanding it was time to act god damn it--

 

But her admission to liking his voice... and the revelation that she'd wanted him for possibly as long as HE'D wanted her... her needy little cries and shudders, were all too good an opportunity to pass up and her poltergeist was more than happy to oblige, desperation withstanding."Oooh, you do do ya?" That gritty voice darkened all the more, all tongue and teeth against her ear and the fine hairs at her neck as his hands found her again with new fervor.

 

"Maybe I did." He certainly had not... though, he'd visited her once or twice in the night and had known precisely why she looked so flushed above her rumpled bedding. "You would'a liked that, wouldn't you baby? Would'a liked if I were there... watching ya play with your pretty cunt, hearing you whisper my name so pretty. All the times you almost called me, all pink and needy, hot and ready for me." It was at best a guess, and a bluff on his part... but all things this evening considered, the sheister liked his odds of being right about her little routine, "Oooohoho, Lyds, the things I would'a done to you, if ya had..." he hissed, smiling against her cheek. "The things i'm gonna do."

 

But her next line nearly throws him, his body going tense with a subtle jolt, when she begs so sweetly for his confession. How long? Oh, god, in hindsight, he'd wanted her forever... maybe not like this, not at the time, not consciously... but everything about her felt so Right, how could he go back to find one specific moment? Beetlejuice pulled his head away from alongside her face to rest his forehead against her's.

 

"Fuck, Lyds. Too long, probably." he admitted, a nervous chuckling snort escaping in a puff, "Since--... Hell, since you graduated. Couldn't barely see you in a swimsuit or tanktop or shorts without gettin *anxious, know what I mean?" Beetlejuice couldn't help but lean in, press another kiss to that plush mouth of her's before he continued nearly against her lips. "But baby, it got so, so much worse this semester... I could'a sworn you were stuck in my head again. Took everything in me not to come to yer dorm room, possess your bed or somethin', just to feel you..." Beetlejuice swallowed thickly, testing her waters with one thick digit. "Hasn't been a day since you left that I didn't cum sayin' yer name, thinkin' about finally havin' you, makin' you mine..." It's possessive and whispered on a hoarse, dangerous breath. But it was his truth, vicious as it seemed. He was a man driven entirely by his wants. The dead didn't need anything, and all the fame and fortune and women and power that he'd ever pawed and clawed to take for himself paled in comparison to how badly he'd craved Lydia.

 

"But not until you cum for me, Lyds. Hear me? I'm not gonna fill you the way you want until you let me feel you drenching my hand, nice an' ready to take every inch." Beetlejuice hissed, rubbing her slick heat at a punishing pace. "C'mon babes, I know you're close... such a good babe, so fucking perfect, fuckin' cum for me."

* * *

 

“Ah---!” came the surprised, but clearly desirous cry from Lydia as the ghoul unfettered her from both her shorts and her shirt. She had, in her thorough distraction forgotten entirely about her state of dress or undress, and she sighed in pleasure once Beetlejuice relieved her of the garments. Revealed for him, laid bare like a true virginal offering, the girl’s slim back arches as if proffering herself to whatever his evil little heart desired. He knew her like no one else, he knew what she liked, he valued her like none other despite all his flaws and greed and want for other things – the strange puzzle that was Lydia Deetz. He’d spent so long unlocking it carefully, paying attention, mentally consuming her. Who else could give her dead roses or knew she loved them? She could hardly remember a time without him. Eyes lidded, she met his hungry reptilian gaze, flashing a look of challenge briefly, capturing her lower lip between her teeth. Like what you see…?

 

He’s also apparently quite dedicated to seeing to her, too, in this. Hearing her describe her fantasies pleased him… once again leaving her enraptured with him. As he returned her banter, too, that low gravel of his went straight to her nethers, leaving her flesh goose-pimpled. Oh, that wasn’t even fair! Oh, and what he’d do… there wouldn’t be another semester without his company, now, of that she was resolute. Or at bare minimum, the vanity was coming with her.

 

“Mmm, yeah, I would have liked that…I think we would have wound up like this a lot sooner if you’d…actually…” she smiles against the cool skin of his cheek, confirming, “I almost…did. I almost called… sometimes, I really thought you were there. Those dreams…were so real, you knew when I wanted you, I knew you were … touching yourself, on the other side of the mirror, I wanted you to come inside so badly,” Lydia breathed, swallowing hard, nuzzling up behind Beetlejuice’s ear as they whispered against each other’s faces. “I wanted you to fuck me Beej…and I didn’t uhm, want you to be gentle about it…”

 

Her fingers toyed further with the buttons on his union suit once he guides them there before starting to undo them slowly, popping each one with her nimble little fingers. It was a distracted action though, the ghost had her in a state, but once open enough she gently reached in to rub at his chest as his forehead met hers. He’d wanted this for a while. Immediately, she felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t picked up on it quickly enough, but a sincere part of her thoroughly believed that…well, she was best friend material, but perhaps nothing beyond that. Warmth spread in her chest at the admission.

 

“Oh Beej,” she murmured in reply, sweetly, her hands cupping his face. “I missed you so badly this semester, if only I’d known…ah---“ the explorations of his finger resulted in an immediate reaction from Lydia, and he can feel her shiver heavily in want of it. He was so much larger than her, even after she stopped growing, and his broad hands were no exception. His description of how he lusted for her every night, oh…it was so delicious and surprising. All that for her? She was that attractive to him?

 

“Beej I---“ she’s cut off as his hand begins to rub the soft, juicy folds of her sex like that, so skillfully, drawing from her a surprised cry. All she can offer him after that, that insistence, that growled and heated demand with those syrupy compliments, is a consumed, helpless sonorous moan in return. Oh she was going to cum, that was certain. It was going to be hard, and fast, and intense at this rate. It doesn’t even take him very long – the build up was searingly hot and she was already primed. Her orgasm captures her up in it before she can even warn Beetlejuice, her hands fisting into the partially open fabric of his suit, her back arching in a graceful shape right off the barren ground. She cries out his name, a lustful, long sound, eyes squeezed tightly shut, nearly flooding his hand with the messy results of his efforts.

 

Still clinging to him as she comes down off the pulsing, thrumming high, she breathlessly mumbles out, trying not to sound ungrateful as her desire for him kept pushing at her. “Please... want…all of you…please give me what I’ve wanted for so long, Beej…”

* * *

 

Her lusty shout signaled her fall and Beetlejuice didn't miss a beat. Her youthful body bucked, lifted, writhed, her thighs fluttering and shaking, and one of his wirey arms snapped around her back to brace his angel against his heft for dear afterlife. Holding her close, breathing and whispering filthy encouragements against her lips, her ghoulish lover waited until her trembling subsided and the silky cream of her release had dripped clear to his wrist before gently laying her back down. Rising up to his knees to loom between her legs, Beetle's golden gaze remained locked on to her's.

 

Huffing and puffing, clearly worked beyond his usual breaking point by now, he aided the little hands still curled up into the itchy fabric of his sleepwear in tugging the fabric away from his shoulders until he could shimmy his pale, lightly muscled arms free. Nimble fingers made quick work of a few more buttons before dropping the burgundy fabric down over his gut, ass and thighs until it pooled around his knees in the dirt. Broad hands gently rested on either of her propped knees, her ghost kept still, aside from the heavy rise and fall of his lightly furred chest, so she could get a better idea of what she was up against.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/xHdWdF0)

 

The thatches of hair on his chest thinned minimally across his gut, before giving way to a treasure trail that quickly became an unruly thatch around his groin and across the heavy balls pulled taut between his legs. His fat, bobbing arousal sticking out further than his stomach was now freed for her viewing, the ruddy purple head weeping rivulets of pre down it's length for her. Ever the showoff, he flexed lightly so it jumped for her, pleased that those dark eyes were so trained on him. Lydia had once called him beautiful, and while he disagreed with and even loathed the description in regards to himself, Beetlejuice'd kept the memory locked away in his shriveled husk of a heart, a treasure. If Lydia thought so, then how could he complain?

 

"Not exactly a grindhouse feature, but it'll do for erotically ghoulish, ey Lyds?" he joked to his expense, though really Night of the Living Dead was usually high praise coming from him. Beetlejuice's face quirked into a toothy smarm, sharp brow lifting at her further pleading All of him, she said? Seemed he hadn't scared her off, just yet.

 

"Always so polite, Babes." he would have teased her for it, but "beggin' me all sweet like that, Fuck--"

 

He dropped back over her in a flash, driven, it seemed, to kiss and suck her neck wildly, his now luke-warm flesh pressing against the length of her body as though he might ravage her *right there * in the dirt, just muscle between those silky legs and finally fill her in one fell swoop. Grimy teeth indented at the turn of her throat. She hadn't wanted GENTLE, after all. But his arms once again ensnared her, suddenly, and gripped hard into the meat of her pert little ass, so he could hoist them both up to his feet.

 

That tent had been calling his name since Lydia had revealed what imaginings she'd gotten up to in there. Just call him dreamweaver because he was ready to make 'em come true--

 

"FUCK--!" came a frantic shout as they nearly took a forward tumble. He'd forgotten the red, itchy thing still binding both of his ankles, and managed to kick free of it in time to catch them both by floating into the air. Frozen, Beetlejuice sputtered a hesitant laugh against his babe's neck. gripping her all the tighter against him. "Heheh, Just messin' with ya, Lyds!" Managing to reach their little nest unscathed, the zipper magically opened and closed itself behind them at his whim.

 

Crawling in the limited space, Beetlejuice kept Lydia spider-monkeyed to his front long enough to roll the single sleeping bag out, before laying her back down. Only this time he didn't pull away. Beej pushed his chest up and off of her so he could look down at her pretty face, framed by lovely sex-mussed hair. What had he done to deserve to see her this way? His cock nudged against her inner thighs, smearing precum where the bulbous head touched.

 

"Last chance to run screamin', Babes..."

* * *

 

Lydia realized that, over the course of the many years they’d known each other, she had seen him in various states of clothed and unclothed, but never before had she seen Beetlejuice quite like this. As more and more of that purple-grey, cadaverous flesh of his was revealed, she had the vague acknowledgement that by all rights she shouldn’t find it as attractive as she did. As she …might have always found it thus, perhaps, though giving herself permission to lust for a friend had taken her some time. His body had all new meaning to her now that her brain had clicked it all into the right category – his wiry arms she knew were stronger than they looked, the overall sloping pear shape of his figure, the soft and narrow chest with darker violaceous nipples, and down to the round gut that she’d always adored cuddling up to. She had seen him without a shirt before, of course, but the rest… her dark, curious eyes roamed, followed quickly by the smooth and soft skin of her legs as they attempted to caress down Beetlejuice’s ample flanks from where he watched her with those predatory yellow eyes.

 

She followed the smattering trail of light blond hair with her eyes, slowly, all the way down to the thick masculine brush of it. She knew, intellectually, men had hair like this but what she wasn’t expecting was her level of appreciation for it – and the immediate desire to perhaps nuzzle affectionately into it at one point or another.

 

That thought, of course, is completely consumed by another as she gets an eye-full of the heavy looking cock jutting from within, weeping eagerly, and her desire flares entirely anew. Whatever button this has pushed for her, it’s pushed it down hard. As it twitches and jumps for her, she can’t suppress the soft noise that rises from within her throat. Barely, she registers that he’s said something to her – and her eyes flick up to Beetlejuice’s face briefly.

 

“Oh,” she returned lightly and pleasantly, distractedly, eyes flicking back down shyly, “It’s ghoulish all-right, don’t sell yourself short… you’re the most disgusting…” she sighs, dreamily, ready to feed his ego and build him up as much as she could, “…vile thing I’ve ever laid eyes on Beej. The filthiest, slimiest, most putrescent, loathsome ghoul---ah---!“

 

He’s on her then, kissing wildly down the long, slim expanse of her neck. His energy is matched, summarily – Lydia’s nubile legs wrap around his hips encouragingly, her arms slinging around his neck. “Please---“ she can’t help but gasp, apparently very prepared to beg him more, and as those grimy uneven teeth find purchase in her flesh she arches again, body taut as bristles of sweet prickly sensation radiate from it. Oh, all of her liked that far too much, her fingers once again digging into the greasy mess of blond hair as if to tell Beetlejuice as much.

 

Never before had she wanted to be so thoroughly consumed by the ghost’s wickedness. She was always there to temper him in some fashion, but now, now she was fully prepared to indulge the side of her that sparked to life under the effects of “New-U”.

 

Suddenly, Lydia found herself scooped from the dank earth, broad hands gripping her with delicious severity. While she felt quite secure in Beetlejuice’s arms her own clung tightly to him, her soft lips finding the chubby slope of his jaw and she busied herself kissing him sweetly and breathlessly – that is, until gravity seems to kick in.

 

_“FUCK--!”_

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/wMjJ7t7)

 

The shout, along with the sudden stumble, leaves her hanging onto him with surprised, wide eyes, fully preparing to become flattened Lydia underneath him. She sucks in a wheezing, squeak of a breath in preparation for the inevitable, only for Beetlejuice to luckily, thankfully, skillfully recover with his ability to float instead. Oh…right. Ghost. Lydia let go a long, relieved sigh as Beetlejuice breathily laughed into her neck, eyes widening once more as they’re both toted tent-wards. “Ooh. Oh, uh, that’s created a lot of new ideas…” she admits to him, “…have you ever done it mid-air?”

 

The reality of her current situation was indeed hitting Lydia, but not in the way Beetlejuice probably expected. “Or…or…you can change shape---“ these half-formed thoughts were coming at a stupendous rush, “Betty---“ she hushed, as if realizing other things, possibilities, “---your head---“ and then, practically squeaked, she added, “…snakes…”

 

By now, they had reached the cozy confines of the tent. Carefully, Beetlejuice arranged her on top of the sleeping back they had left, and it occurs to her to mention, “Oh—uhm, that’s what started this whole thing, I forgot to uh, tell you. There’s only one sleeping bag—“ it seemed so relevant at the time. She was rambling, only stoppered by the sensation of that slick cock-head drooling across her leg.

 

_“Last chance to run screamin’, Babes…”_

 

“Only if you’d catch me, Beej—“ she murmured in return, reaching up for him after he’d pulled away to gaze at her. “…but I’m ready to scream for you now…no running involved…” she added, smiling impishly, before she leaned up to capture his semi-warmed lips with her own in a heated kiss, her thighs spreading again encouragingly with need.

* * *

 

Beetlejuice had laughed, pleased at her question and seeming realizations regarding how his abilities could change the entire game. "Couple times, but never with anybody who was into it... y'know, all the ghost stuff. Not quite a novelty for dead chicks, y'know? " But for LYDIA, who always seemed eager and delighted when it came to his powers and ridiculous deadman antics, the possibilities were indeed endless. He'd be keeping the things she mentioned in hand. "But there's a few things i've never gotten a chance to try... an' i'm sure your dirty little head can come up with more than a few, too. You know I love it." Their adventures together had always been new and exciting, and expected they'd never run dry of misadventure. But now he was SURE of it, with this new branch of their relationship opening wide.

 

Pressing her down into the bedding, Beej hunched himself in order to kiss down the length of her neck, the expanse of her chest, to latch on to one perky tit with a dripping, lascivious groan. His hooded gaze lifted to watch her, kneading the other soft dome with a wide palm. His serpentine tongue darted out past his lips occasionally, circling and wetting her areola repeatedly.

 

His passionate mauling of her neck and breasts was halted, briefly, at the mention of the single bedroll. Pulling his villainous mouth away from one rose-tipped breast with a wet pop, he purred, "What a dilemma. Don't worry, babe, i'll share. Hope you don't mind us gettin' nice n' close." It's as sarcastic as he can manage in state of full blown arousal.

 

And when he asked if she's decided to back out, offered her another chance to save herself from what was quickly becoming a singular devotion on his part, she teases back. And, given her answer and the precious way she tugged him back to her welcoming lips, he'd say she was fairly deep in it, as well.

 

Needing no further provocation than the spread of her legs for him, Beetlejuice steeled himself. Always holding her gaze, kissing, sucking, biting her lips all the while, he lowered one hand between their tightly pressed bodies to grip himself at his thick base. The moment his wide head dipped just within the liquid heat of her mons, something feral stirred around inside him, causing his hips an involuntary buck forward to force his way in with gusto.

 

It's only his tip, but the already snug clasp of her flower dragged a snarling hiss out of him. He'd wanted to be tender, if only at first, but that was quickly proving to be entirely too difficult for a being whose sole purpose in existence seemed to be to take.

 

Both hands moved to grip at the cradle of her hips, to hold her still for him, before an exploratory thrust sent his cock intruding to very nearly his hilt. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine and his clawed fingers dug in at the join of her hips.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/G9fkskq)

 

"Oh, fuuuckk..." he growled, her poor little cunt fluttering so tightly around him that any thought of pulling back to thrust into her again was momentarily stalled. Devil's god damn ballsack she was so fucking tight. Still spurred on by immense need, BJ settled for a light rocking that was gracefully aided by all that lovely girly cum and the almost constant stream of pre she was practically milking from him, now. Something like sense returned and he conciously loosened the punishing grip on her hips. Yikes, it'd been a while since he'd fucked anything that could bruise.

 

Gaze softened considerably, he lifted a gentle hand to cup her lovely face, ruddy thumb sweeping across her cheek fondly. "Good girl, Babes... yer takin' me so good." Beetlejuice purred encouragements, his eyes never leaving her reactions to ensure she didn't seem too uncomfortable. "Not hurtin' you am I? Not too bad, anyway?"

* * *

 

Beetlejuice was always good to her. Where other people saw the strange and perverse, the illicit, the flat out taboo, the ghoul only saw the potential for a good time. He never made a joke from her enthusiasm, her peculiar and creative modes of thought. In fact, more often than not, they had a similar way of thinking – but even so, when her ghostly friend seemed encouraging of her embarrassed ramblings it was reassuring.

 

_“There’s a few things I’ve never gotten the chance to try…”_

 

Of course, she could only imagine what those things were, and if there was one ghoul who could match her weird creativity, it was Beetlejuice. She swallowed, audibly, eyes widening at those possibilities. What had she gotten herself into? And would she ever want to stop? Most of Lydia’s brain ran on an intense, unrelenting curiosity that never seemed sated…so, the answer was a very obvious no. As she had grown, Hellraiser had become a series of films she had put on while studying long hours, and vaguely, a line from it amusedly ran through her head. We have such sights to show you…

 

As the ghosts’ mouth found the length of her neck again, though, all those thoughts were rapidly swept away and Lydia returned back into the moment. His lips felt better than they had in any of her random, heated dreams where he was involved, and he soon had her purring throatily again for him. Lydia’s body tightened again once his mouth found her breast, sucking it past his lips easily, the warm flesh ensconced within. He drags from her another helpless, keening moan, throat edging on roughness at how much noise he’d encouraged her to make throughout. Lydia, it would seem was a vocal girl in bed at least, or perhaps only for Beetlejuice. That wet, gravelly moan he made in return caused pulsing heat to bloom and spread up inside her again - she always liked to see him happy, and this was no exception…but the fact that these were issued in enjoyment of her body was utterly divine. His tongue, that slimy, long, striped talented thing, was being used against the very sensitive nub of her already sensitive nipple, and she squirmed beneath him heatedly, eyes squeezing shut once more.

 

Another “Mm…oh!” was exclaimed as her perky breast was released, and at his words she’s quick to slap her hands over her face in both amusement and disbelief. “Oh Beej- that was the exact thing… that got me started!” she explained pitifully with a half-laugh, “But…I guess it’ll work out after all, huh?” she peeked from between her fingers, a smile behind them. “At least this time we aren’t sharing a tent with anyone else…”

 

No, finally, it was just the two of them. As it should be, she reasoned. Soon enough, her lips were meeting Beetlejuice’s again, matching his hunger, surprised at his enthusiasm yet again. Then, she felt it. The blunt head of his cock pushing into her, and immediately her fingers found their way around his smooth shoulders and onto his back, digging in. A moment later, more of him pushes into her velvety passage– the thick girth of his cock spreading her oh so achingly wide around him. Lydia’s muscles squeeze and flutter, and the tent is filled with the sound of her pleasure-filled noises, her own hips starting to squirm until the ghoul holds her still by her plush hips. He grabs at her roughly, then, as if trying to steel himself, and her knees tightened around his sides in response. One more thrust and every inch was almost buried inside of her – panting, she writhed fitfully in his grip, hardly in pain but sweetly stretched. She squeezed every part of him with that hungry, thoroughly wet cunt of hers, her body responding for her. Lydia had barely noticed how tight he was gripping her, and probably forgot how hard her fingers were clawing into his back. Her mouth agape, she was clearly in some sort of rapturous overload. How good he felt – the sensation was indescribable. No dildo she had nervously purchased and hid carefully even came remotely close to the sensation of the real thing, a real thick, twitching, weeping cock deep inside of her. It was rutted into all the right places too, pushing all the edges of her sensitive canal as if she had been made to fit him exclusively. He filled her completely, and nothing could have prepared her for how much she enjoyed it. Over and over she mumbled abbreviations of his name.

 

“Oh Beej-“ she hiccupped as he began to move inside of her, her trembling legs wrapping tighter over the small of his back. As the ghost fondly checks on her, she pants breathlessly, leaning into his palms, her eyes lidding almost drunkenly. “No,” she murmured low in her throat, almost a heady whisper, “You feel perfect…’m so full…” she is grateful, however, at how much he clearly cares for her, her pleasure, her enjoyment. As her hips are now released, she begins a slow, experimental round of counter-thrusts against his efforts. Oh yes, that was it… she wanted so badly to bring him as much pleasure as she was receiving, that was certain. She wanted him to slake his lust in her, he’d waited so long hadn’t he? She slowly slipped her hands from his back and, meeting his gaze, slowly ran her hands down her own shaking form, arching, writhing, before coming to rest at her breasts, toying with them for him in a shocking display of vixenhood.

 

“Mmmn…"

* * *

 

She's so eager, so ready to please, and her ghoul couldn't deny how selfishly he loved it. Lydia rolled her hips against him, grabbed her own breasts in a wanton display the likes of which he'd only ever dreamed of seeing from the Ms. Shannon's School for Girls alumni.

 

"Goddammit..." her lover snarled, "just ain't fair, you lookin' so god damn good..." he caught that playful gleam in her dark eyes and shuddered a breath of laughter. "Don't even know what you do to me, babes." Though that probably wasn't true, he thought with wicked delight. She must have known what that body of her's could do. How she could bring his world crashing down around him with a look, if she wanted. How he'd crawl across fields of broken glass or take a bath for a taste of that dripping cunt.

 

In which case, he was in some real trouble.

 

The gentle rocking of his hips turned into a fitful, desperate sort of humping, grunts and growls of frustration escaping as he stretched her tight body around the fat, dripping intrusion. All the while he breathed gentle encouragement wetly against her, kissing and sucking red patches across her flawless skin."Ssshit, baby, so god damn tight--" Slowly and surely the vice-like grip of her walls loosened up for him "good girl baby fuck yeah--" and her impatient lover immediately seized the opportunity. Heavy hips slammed down into her's, bottomed out, heavy balls grinding against her ass as he did. The guttural sound he makes as his blunt head jabs so perfectly deep at her core is nothing short of filthy. Lost for words momentarily, he pulls out to nearly his head before thrusting back in with gusto. Her fitful writhing spurred him to give her what she was clearly begging for.

 

"Full huh? You think that's full?" Thrusting in earnest, now, Beetlejuice's head dropped against her chest, focused entirely on fucking her like she deserved. "Just you wait, baby, i'll show ya full..."

 

Sex with the living, as the dead man was discovering for the first time, was turning out to be incredibly good. Not just good. He couldn't find the right word, but really fuckin' god damn good. Not that there wasn't something to be said for the cold, wet, and dirty brand of girl he'd been pouring boundless lust into for a few decades, but as far as Beetlejuice was concerned, he had plenty of cold for the both of them. There was simply no comparison. Lydia's body was positively molten against him and he openly basked in adoration of her. That voice of her's, the one he'd grown so familiar to and suddenly so attracted to, panting pleasured cries all for him, all because she wanted him to take her. It sent waves of tingling down his neck and dragging more of those sounds out of her became his quest. Her tits pressed to his chest sent her warmth seeping into him and building a pleasant, potentially addictive sensation in his chest that he had not felt since his death.

 

He's certain: between Lydia's legs is as close to the pearly gates as he'll ever get.

 

And to top it all off, she wasn't just some fleshy source of warmth for the serpent to coil up against and sink his teeth into. She was the girl he'd spent nearly every moment thinking about for as far back as he cared to think about. His dark, gloomy, gorgeous angel who didn't turn him away for all that he was. Who welcomed a fiend like him into her life and arms and bed and body so sweetly, and wanted him there. Wanted to keep him, he hoped. Like he wanted to keep HER.

 

Beetlejuice held her closer, taking her with all the frantic madness of a dog at a bitch in heat, and whatever possessive monster lurked behind his ribs suddenly resurfacing to demand a moment with her. His fingers dug into her sides as he dragged her body to meet each thrust with a resoundingly wet slap.

 

"'m gonna fill you, Lyds. That what'cha want, huh? Want me to pump you full? Make you mine?You'll be spillin' me for days, baby. Send you back t'your world still drippin' my cum... Fuck--"

 

He was just doing it to himself, now. And he was indeed feeling that blinding edge rushing toward him. There wasn't any slowing down, not at the punishing rate he'd taken up fucking her, he managed to think through the haze of lust and Lydia. But he refused to take that dive alone, not her first time.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/8BdVDgv)

 

One hand released her waist and shot to their sopping union, sussing out her little pearl as though he'd done it a million times rather than once, and the red tip of his finger buzzed into a condensed magic pulse.

 

"Come, come for me Babes, yeah there ya go--" he soothed, all the while keeping his frantic pace. His animalistic growls and snarls turned to a desperate moaning, practically begging "That's it beautiful, that's IT. Fuck i'm gonna cum, Lyds, i'm too god damn close--"

* * *

 

The encouragement that Beetlejuice was purring out for her was enough to make Lydia lightheaded, but as the ghoul really starts to thrust into her she’s lost to a feverish sexual rush from the sensation. Initially, it’s difficult for Beetlejuice to make much leeway from how tightly he’s stuck within her, but with enough of those stubborn, staggering thrusts he works her open until her muscles relax in a wave of heat. She mewls then, trembling, her restless hands fisting tightly in that wiry blond hair of his, tilting her face just enough to leave her long sinuous neck unguarded to his ravishing, hungry mouth. She didn’t care how many marks he left – and at this rate, he was leaving quite a number. Jacques and Ginger were going to be scandalized when they got back and they saw her with these, of that she's fairly convinced.

 

If she had been more experienced at returning the filthy things he was growling down her neck, she would have done so with gusto. But at the moment, everything that poured from the ghouls’ horrid mouth was sending liquid heat directly between her already molten thighs and her lips were agape and gasping. It wasn’t fair for him was it? How about her? All of her suspicious until this point about anyone else being able to engage her on this level were confirmed – only the dead, and specifically this dead guy knew how to, and wanted to turn her crank. Not as a joke, or some sort of silly challenge, not as an awkward, fumbling first time, but with vile enthusiasm and dark promises that sent her reeling.

 

No, indeed, as Beetlejuice hits home with force, his hips slapping loudly as they meet with Lydia’s ass and thighs and he bottoms out inside of her, the moan that she lets out is surprised and rough. Oh yes she wanted this, every sweat glistened inch of her. “Oh Beej, ah -oh Beej yes-…” she chokes out in earnest reply to his threats. Normally, grandiose promises on the ghost’s behalf were something to be concerned about as they rapidly spiraled out of control soon after. This, however, was for once so easy to get thoroughly lost within. Her heat was doing them both a service – for all of Beetlejuice’s lukewarm flesh, hers was on fire, transferring most of it to the other as she clutched and clawed at him. In a way, his cooler flesh was almost a relief.

 

Lydia’s sweaty face buried itself into the soft folds of the ghouls’ chubby neck and jawline, grateful for its coolness as she was held against the rest of that tempered, corpse-like flesh in his need to have her. Nothing about him read as a living being, minus the very living feeling parts of him thrusting within her, and it felt as right as could be for someone who found much more in common with the dead than the living all her life. Beetlejuice was indeed a monster, but he was her monster, and even though she hadn’t seen it herself – he knew what her life would have been like without him.

 

He treated her body so deliciously viciously in his lust, rapid wet, obscene slapping resounding through the tent’s walls as he lifted and pulled her into each one, ensuring he stroked deeper inside of her each time. Lydia’s heart was going at such a rate that surely it couldn’t keep up, but the girl was pretty positive this must be why the French called it le petit mort - her whole body thrummed and agonized for more each time the ghoul’s cock sunk into her and withdrew. He was stroking her, building her with that furious animalistic pace, and it was the most pleasure and misery Lydia had ever experienced all at once as every part of her demanded more and release.

 

“Yes….!” She cried out in breathless, pleading response to Beetlejuice’s perverse questions, every one of them only making her current situation all the more unbearable and she loved it. “I …I wanna feel it Beej…p-please, make me yours!” She was suddenly struck with imagery of a stud horse led to slake itself furiously into a breeding mount until exhausted, and her toes curled tightly. Dripping for days? The idea nearly made her eyes cross. “Flood me with it Beej…” she mumbled drunkenly, desirously, her knees tightened to his soft sides for purchase. Experimentally, then, almost mumbled into his shoulder in an embarrassed rush she added, “…m…make me heavy with your seed...”

 

When he placed his thumb to Lydia’s clit as if he’d already gotten accustomed to her anatomy, all her desires and thoughts were lost entirely to the electric buzz he sent through the digit, just like one of her little plastic vibrators tucked away in her dorm. “Oh god, yes---!” Oh he was good to her, she had no idea he could do that and it summarily drop-kicks her tormented and frustrated body right over the edge. “I’m coming! Ah---AH! B-BeetlejuUUuuice…!” she cried, voice lifting three octaves suddenly – it only takes but a moment of that divine stimulation to do it. She lifts off the dampened sleeping bag underneath her, all of her soft inner places clenching down, pulling insistently at the cock inside of her with hard and heavy pulses of orgasm, flooding the both of them with her own sultry wash of fluids. Her breasts jiggle softly as all her muscles clench hard, and her body shakes with the intensity of this frantic peak.

* * *

 

Between the lewd sounds of their lovemaking reverberating around their little sanctum, the prickly sweet sensation of those dainty hands of her's gripping into his hair and blunted little nails clawing across his flesh, he was absolutely and happily lost to the world. Perfectly willing to drown in her, in the intense madness of their combined pleasure. To his surprise, Lydia returned his lusty mutterings with a few that very nearly scandalize the ghoul. She's not dirty about it, the way he is when he breathes his sinful wonderings against her flesh, but the wording she used --heavy with his seed -- conjured up images that hadn't necessarily perked his libido since his time on the otherside. Hell, even before that, he hadn't ever been interested in that sort of thing... But now, he suddenly indulged himself in everything so small about her, and imagined: that toned belly growing round with their unholy half-breed, her perky tits swelling, leaving a mark more permanent than sucks or bites -- all because of him. All because of what he was doing to her, now. Huh. That was... certainly a new one... He'd have to keep it for later exploration, for any potential sequels. Seemed Lydia wasn't the only one discovering previously undreamed fantasies in regards to her partner's body, tonight.Whether or not it were possible, Beetlejuice didn't necessarily care nor consider in the moment. All he could feel was the blinding urge to give her little body what it was craving.

 

He didn't have to wait long, it seemed, before Lydia was suddenly flung across the yawning threshold before them. Her tight walls fluttered and spasmed around him to pull his cock deeper. She howled his name, trembled in his grasp, her little claws dug into his back so hard it made him grit his teeth. Her hot flood of arousal thoroughly drenched the base of his cock and dripped down his balls --

 

That did it. His hips jammed down once, twice, knees plowing into the ground to fuck his Lydia so weightily that he vaguely worried his heavy gut might crush her, before fire shot up his cock and battered balls and he finally gave her what she wanted. "Hrrngh, fuck LYdiA--!" Beetlejuice spilled for what felt like years, his cock pulsing and jumping inside with each thick line of spunk he shot into her.

 

[ ](https://ibb.co/wdq95k3)

 

Limply dropping the tormenting hand at her clit away to instead claw her hips for purchase, the ghoul could only manage to groan husky, nonsensical curses into her flushed cheek.

 

He laid there covering her for some time, her gluttonous creature unwilling to give her back to the world just yet. Panting heavy, their bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Beetlejuice stayed within her as he seemed to groggily come to in order to kiss her face all over. Nose, cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead beneath her mussed bangs, and all the while he whispered vows of adoration, promises impossible for any mortal man to keep, confessions of love that outed him as far more of a romantic than he had ever let on to anyone. Well, anyone but her. She'd had him pegged as the love-sick sort since she was a kid. He made a note to be extra nasty to everyone back at the roadhouse, so they wouldn't catch on.

 

It's a long while before his girth softened and with a grunt he slowly withdrew. Admiring his handiwork a moment, terribly pleased by the oozing mess they'd left between her thighs, Beetlejuice rolled weightily off to her side with a thud. His hands sought her out, though, and he was quick to drag Lydia back into his arms. Swallowing hard, a bit overwhelmed by all he'd said to her and done to her tonight, her ghost puffed a nervous chuckle against her hair.

 

"Not uh... not exactly the camping trip you pictured, huh Lyds?"

* * *

 

Lydia had heard Beetlejuice call her name many times. Shrieked it, screamed it, howled it – usually when in some severe dire straits but never had she heard him call for her in such a way and it made her knees shake. Cock stuffed as deep as it could possibly go inside of her, his gut bearing down on her in a way that surpassed the horny imaginings she had been brewing much earlier by a mile, the little sullen goth was in a state of dopamine-laden bliss as Beetlejuice wound up like a spring atop her and then released.

 

A desirous, low moan escaped her as she could feel him do exactly what he promised, what she had been aching for, straining her hips upwards against his dead weight as he ground her into the sleeping bag and pulsed inside of her. “Yes…ahhhn, yes…oh, god, that feels so good-“ She could soon feel every part of her soft insides awash in thick ropes of cum for what felt like long minutes, the curves of her hips happily and possessively clutched in her sweet ghouls greedy hands. He left her thighs slick with any that couldn’t remain inside of her, and between that and her own juices she was indeed left a thorough mess. His softly spoken curses babbled into the smooth side of her little face left Lydia quietly moaning for him in return, and once those abated she was happy to remain thoroughly crushed underneath him.

 

She too, was attempting to recover, huffing out exhausted panting breaths of her own, the intense rush of the entire experience leaving her happily, and thoroughly drained. She didn’t want to be anywhere but here, underneath him, and her arms coiled up under Beetlejuice’s wiry arms to wrap around his back. Her brain was static, those dusky eyes of hers out of focus and lidded. As she laid there, the vague comfort that they were entirely alone together settled warmly into her chest – nobody to interrupt them, no crises to whisk either of them away from this bliss. He was hers and only hers in this place, and her eyes almost slipped to fully closed before Beetlejuice’s gentle, affectionate flurry of kisses was administered. It made her giggle, that happy warmth overtaking her to her belly, and her arms tightened suddenly as her friend’s promises, his true feelings are whispered to her like the sweetest secrets.

 

Lydia returned every bit of his proclamations of love and affection without hesitation, her arms slipping away to almost fully enclose Beetlejuice’s head against her, still left somewhat breathless. “It’s always been you,” she murmured, quietly, “No one makes me as happy as you do. No one knows how, I think. I’m grateful to you for what you did for me this semester, Beej, but I don’t think … we can’t, after this … I need you with me,” she murmured, and then added, embarrassed, “Keeping you away was such a … bad idea…” Hadn’t he always supported her, anyway? She couldn’t do another two months missing him like she had, especially not after all this.

 

As Beetlejuice finally relinquishes her, she is all at once hit with delicious cool air and tremendously empty feeling. A new flood of sticky mess creams up her thighs as the ghoul pulls out of her, and indeed, he has left her a happy spent mess. She was thoroughly sex mussed and rumpled, swollen pink lips, the inky black hair that hit her shoulders tangled into a dark halo around the back of her head and shoulders. Lydia was grateful when his arms tugged for her, pulling her right back against him, too, nuzzling her face right back against his, despite being covered in a sticky sheen of sweat. He smelled good, or at least, good to her - and she was happy to bask in it. “Mmm, nope,” she murmured contentedly. “Way better than the one I pictured, Beej. Who needs a map? I think we wound up exactly where we were supposed to be.” And with that, Lydia kissed him and laughed.

* * *


End file.
